Shadow Slave

Two days had passed after the battle with Mordret’s previous vessel and the army of corpse puppets he had created with its help. Those of the wounded who had received light injuries were already back on their feet, but three of the sentinels were still in bad shape.

Their comrades were doing everything in their power to treat their wounds, but with every healer in the Citadel already dead, there was little that could be done to hasten the recovery. One of the corners of the hall was converted into an infirmary, where the three heavily injured sentinels rested and received care.

…In the morning, a piercing scream suddenly echoed between the black stone walls. Those who were sleeping jumped up, grabbing the weapons that they had kept summoned to be ready for an attack. Those who remained awake were already moving, rushing toward the source of the scream — the makeshift infirmary.

Sunny simply sat up on his mattress, a tense expression on his face.

There were three cots for the wounded, standing in a row along the wall. It was the Lost who occupied the middle one that was screaming, his face contorted by an expression of sheer terror.

The other two were dead.

Their throats were sliced open, blood streaming to the floor. Both were killed in their sleep, without alerting anyone around… as far away from the entrance to the hall as it was possible, right in the middle of the sentinels’ camp.

The third one clearly could have been murdered as well, and had been left alive on purpose, as if to mock the Lost.

It was as though Mordret was telling them that no one was safe, and that he was perfectly capable of taking each of them whenever he pleased.

“W—what?!”

“How did he get inside?!”

“He might still be here!”

The Lost were on the verge of panicking, but in the end, their training and skill prevailed. Instead of descending into chaos, the situation inside the hall immediately turned into a coordinated action. Even before Peirce and Welthe arrived, the sentinels were already moving to stand in a defensive formation, weapons drawn and ready for battle.

The two Masters appeared mere seconds after the scream. They quickly assessed the situation and joined their soldiers, half of the Echoes moving closer, half barring the doors.

For a few moments, there was a tense silence in the stronghold of the Valor forces. The surviving sentinels waited tensely by the infirmary, while five empty-eyed Echoes blocked the exit.

There was no one else in the hall… except for Sunny and Cassie, who had not moved from the start of it all.

Slowly, all of the Lost focused on the two of them. Their gazes were dark, cold, and full of danger.

Sunny’s face twitched.

‘Crap…’

Was Mordret aware of how these actions would affect the two of them? Was he trying to force them out into the open on purpose, making it impossible to stay with the sentinels?

What was his damn plan, really? What was his endgame? How was he planning to deal with Saint Cormac in a few days, and what role was everyone else supposed to play before that?

He opened his mouth, wishing to say something to defuse the situation, but one of the Lost was faster:

“It’s them! It must be one of them!”

As soon as this first accusation was made, the floodgates were open. A moment later, Sunny and Cassie were assaulted by a litany of cries, all blaming them for the deaths of the two wounded sentinels.

Sunny stared at the crowd of Lost, feeling his heart grow cold. A single person could be reasoned with… but what he saw right now was not a group of people, but a massive creature with many heads, many shouting mouths, and many eyes that burned with fury, fear… and dark, murderous intent.

A frightened crowd did not know reason, it only knew fear, and the desire to either escape or destroy its source.

…Ironically, there were very few things more frightening than a senseless crowd.

The Lost were much more resilient and prepared than most people, but even battle-hardened warriors like them had a limit. After weeks of being hunted, slaughtered, and brutalized by the elusive and terrifying fiend, they seemed to have finally reached it.

Of course, there was no logic behind the accusations. Neither Sunny nor Cassie possessed the means to commit the murder unnoticed — simply for the fact that they had been watched this entire time, since no one really trusted them, to begin with.

But his attempt to explain this was drowned by the chorus of angry shouts.

Sunny noticed Pierce and Welthe exchanging a quick look, their faces calm, but somber. At least these two had managed to keep a cool head… but would that change anything?

His heartbeat slowed.

Sunny mentally took in the entirety of the hall — the Echoes standing guard near the doors, the two Masters, the formation of the Lost, the dead sentinels laying on the blood-soaked cots…

Would he be able to fight his way out of this place? And what would happen next? The forces of Valor would surely pursue him and Cassie…

It was at this moment that a sudden realization hit him.

Sunny hesitated for a moment, then slowly rose to his feet. His hand hovered in the air, as if ready to summon a weapon.

That action was enough to cause a chain effect among the Lost.

One of them suddenly lunged forward, throwing a javelin at Sunny. Another drew his bow, an arrow already knocked on the string…

Nothing came of it, however.

Almost instantly, Pierce growled, his voice easily suppressing the shouts:

“Stop, you wretched bastards! Who ordered you to attack?! Anyone who moves, I’ll kill myself!”

At the same time, Welthe turned into a blur and appeared in front of Sunny, catching the javelin before it could get anywhere near him. She looked at the weapon with a scowl, then threw it on the floor.

The Echoes standing in front of the sentinel formation suddenly turned, facing the Lost. Their empty eyes stared at the frightened warriors, no emotion in them.

…Just like that, the two Masters tamed the wild beast of the human crowd. No matter how far gone the sentinels were, there were still remnants of discipline etched deep into their bones.

More than that, the easiest way to defeat fear was with a different, much greater fear.

Under the unnerving gaze of the Echoes, the accusing shouts abruptly stopped. The Lost hesitated, then hesitantly lowered their weapons.

However, their burning gazes were still focused on Sunny and Cassie, their thirst for violence temporarily leashed, but not quenched.

Welthe lingered for a moment, then looked at them over her shoulder.

“…You better come with me. It is… not safe for the two of you to remain with the others. Don’t worry, though. We’ll keep you safe.”

Sunny pretended to shiver, glanced at the crowd of the Lost, and nodded.

“Sure. Yeah… no problem.”

Inwardly, though, he was grinning.

‘Keep us safe… what a bunch of crap…’

Sunny and Cassie were led deeper into the inner sanctum. They passed the room with the round table where the two Masters had first interrogated them, then the personal quarters of the Ascended knights, and were finally led to a small room with a single door.

Welthe let them inside and remained at the threshold.

She was quiet for a few moments, and then said:

“Wait for a bit. I will bring you food and water later. This will be your lodgings from now on, so get comfortable.”

With that, she closed the door and left.

Sunny smiled darkly.

…He didn’t hear the click of the lock, but the implication was clear.

The small room was much more comfortable than the iron cage, but it served the same purpose.

Once again, they were in a prison cell.

…However, Sunny knew that this time, they won’t be staying in it long.

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